


The Cracks in Your Glamour

by GavotteAndGigue



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Emotional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Angst, Misunderstandings, Music, Musicians, NO CAPES, Rock Star AU, Rock Stars, Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-06 23:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15205703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GavotteAndGigue/pseuds/GavotteAndGigue
Summary: Jason is one of the biggest up and coming rock stars in the world, when he's invited to perform at a Charity Gala in his home town of Gotham. It's then that he meets Dick Grayson, son of Bruce Wayne, model, playboy, and everything Jason doesn't want to fall in love with.For NitroJen as part of the JayDick Summer Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NitroJen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NitroJen/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to the phenomenally talented [@stevieraebarnes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevieraebarnes) for her excellent beta skills. 
> 
> NitroJen, thanks for the amazing prompt! I kind of took it and ran as far as I could go. Hope you enjoy the story!

“One. Two. Three. Four.” Jason counted aloud and began strumming the chords. Four bars: a-minor, G, e-minor for two bars. Repeat. Eight bars. He nodded at Artemis, and she joined in, picking the steady notes of the bass line out on her axe-style guitar.

“Vamp while I whip up the crowd,” Jason directed and Artemis continued to repeat the four bar phrase. He then turned to his next bandmate. “Biz, you hold off on drums ‘til I cue,” and then finally turning to Roy, “synth comes in with Biz.”

Jason let them play a few more bars of the vamp, nodding his head in rhythm before he cued the last bar and turned to face downstage to sing --

 _“Inside I’ve died, but you've still given birth._  
_Outside, you’ve nestled my cradle in the earth._  
_I can hear you call as I claw myself out in the rain._  
_Lady in the firelight. Mother of pain._  
_Revive me to fight your insurrection.  
You are my resurrection.”_

The lighting and effects kicked in. Smoke and mist began to creep along the stage floor. The main overheads blinked out, leaving the Outlaws in darkness until a burst of red light flared from a series of spotlights. They briefly paused over each of the band members before they coalesced on Jason.

“Wait! Hang on,” Jason stopped playing. The lights came back on.

“What is the matter, Jason?” A tall redhead emerged from backstage. Kori. She had been in the band at one point, but she'd dropped out to follow her dream of starting her own company, Starfire Productions. Jason had been sad to see her go, but had welcomed the chance to work with her in a different capacity as his stage manager.

“I don’t want the spotlights focusing on just me,” Jason explained. “We’re the Outlaws. Not Red Hood and three people standing around doing nothing.”

They were currently in the middle of their first tech rehearsal for a new production they were putting on, which they planned to debut at the upcoming Wayne Foundation Charity Gala. Finding and working out the kinks in their set and how it related to their tech was one of the purposes of doing the run through.

Beside him, Artemis nodded in approval to Jason’s comment. “We recognize Jason’s role in leading the band, but focusing solely on him would be like calling out a single leg as the most important on a chair. We function as a team, and would like to be recognized as such.”

Jason smiled to himself at that. Artemis did love her metaphors, but Jason completely agreed with her stance. He was technically the frontman and songwriter, but the others often wrote their own lines and offered a wealth of creative input. He wouldn’t be able to do what he did without them.

“Me am agree with Red Her,” Bizarro chimed in.

“What he said,” Roy added.

“Ah, that is an oversight on my part,” Kori was apologetic, but she seemed pleased at the same time. “So many bands use a single spotlight,” she said, “but I will make the adjustments accordingly.”

The rest of the rehearsal went similarly. They stopped, made adjustments, and then recommenced, only to stop again to make more tweaks. There would be several more rehearsals like this in preparation for their upcoming concert, and though Jason was feeling pretty good about everything relating to the music and the band, he had mixed feelings about coming back to Gotham.

Gotham was home. It would always be, but his memories of the place were not all pleasant. However, when the Wayne Foundation had reached out, he didn't want to pass up the opportunity to give something back to the city that had raised and shaped him. The Foundation was raising money for a new literacy program for underserved children, and though Talia had not been too keen on the idea, but it was a project that Jason had come to feel very passionately about.

If it weren't for Gotham libraries and the reading programs at the youth center he attended, he never would have made it to where he was today. He never would have piqued Talia’s interest enough into plucking him off the streets after she caught him stealing her tires. She’d taken pity on him that night and taken him to dinner, but he was able to impress her by being able to fully converse about literature. A street kid who could quote Shakespeare was unusual, but a few days later, when Talia had run into him again busking on the streets, he had really solidified her interest in him with his music.

His real mom, Catherine, had been the one to give him her guitar and teach him to play. She had taught him to sing not just with his voice, but with his heart. Talia had apparently seen enough talent in him that she decided to _invest._ Talia took him in, adopted him, and cared for him, but she was also shrewdly discerning of his talent. She sent him across the globe to learn from the best guitar and composition masters. He’d met his motley crew of bandmates as he traveled, and soon they had released their first album that had quickly become a social media sensation. They recently went platinum, and now Gotham was inviting him home with arms wide open.

Home. He never imagined his life would turn out like this. That the gilded rich in their opulent mansions up in the hills would be inviting a street urchin like him back to perform at one of their bullshit fancy parties. Even with Talia’s efforts at refining him, he still never quite felt at home amongst the wealthy. He felt more comfortable clinging to the bad boy image he had nurtured as a young boy. It worked for him. It was who he was, underneath, and his fans the world over seemed to agree. Still, he believed wholeheartedly in the Wayne Foundation’s literacy project, so he would suffer through performing for a bunch of spoiled brats if it meant more funding for kids like himself at the youth centers and libraries.

It took some convincing to get Talia on board however. She had wanted him to stay in London to build the Outlaws’ European and Asian fan base. She also held a certain amount of unconcealed resentment for anyone named Wayne, but with Jason's insistence, she eventually relented. Fortunately, the rest of the Outlaws were open to traveling, and a few weeks ago they packed up and relocated their home base to a newly updated recording studio with a rehearsal stage in the arts district of Gotham Village.

It was here that they were running their tech rehearsal, working out the kinks of their new production until eventually they called it a day. Jason headed back to his designated dressing room where he found Roy waiting for him, a package tucked under his arm and a mischievous grin on his face.

“Whatcha got there?” Jason eyed the package suspiciously. He knew that look on Roy. It meant he was amused, and an amused Roy often meant some sort of good-natured joke at Jason’s expense.

“Oh nothing,” Roy smiled. “Just a new performance outfit Kori picked out.”

Uh oh. Jason thought the world of Kori. He really did, but her taste in clothing was often a little… extreme. He took the package from Roy as they stepped into his dressing room and opened it. It looked like a pile of rags at first, but then Jason realized the pile of rags was meant to be his outfit.

“What the hell?” He looked back at Roy.

“Come on,” Roy urged. “Try it on, I wanna see.”

He gave Roy a deadpan look, with as much belligerence as he could muster. Roy stared right back, daring him to back down. Jason eventually gave in. He’d have to try it on eventually anyway, just to appease Kori, even if he ultimately decided against wearing it.

Jason almost couldn’t figure out how to put it on. There were so many goddamned _holes_. More holes than there were material it seemed, but eventually he figured it out. The outfit turned out to be a pair of rather tight-fitting black leather pants that barely came up over his hips. In fact, it was even missing a fly button so that the front placket was partially open in a rather revealing “V” just above his crotch. The so-called “pants” had so many rips and tears across his thighs that there had to be a layer of fishnet mesh underneath holding it all together. 

The shirt was even worse, if you could even call it a shirt. The black cloth was stretchy, and it clung to his skin like some sort of silky spandex. That in itself wasn’t the problem. The problem was the giant cutout across his abs, and another that slashed diagonally across his pecs, revealing his left nipple and a substantial portion of his lats.

“Fuck you, Roy! I am not wearing this,” he exclaimed as he stepped out from his dressing room to confront his asshole-of-a-friend. “You put Kori up to this didn’t you--.” Jason stopped short, because Roy was indeed still standing outside his dressing room, grinning like a buffoon, but there was someone else standing beside him. 

Jason almost did a double take, because holy hell, _that face_. The man standing beside Roy was unreal. Like staring at immaculate perfection. Like someone had jacked into Jason’s brain and 3D printed his mental picture of ideal beauty. Except the person standing before him was most certainly real. And he was smiling. Grinning like he was holding back a laugh, a hint of surprise in his luminously bright blue eyes as he flitted his gaze downward to take in Jason’s ridiculous outfit. He blatantly stared for longer than Jason was comfortable before he seemed to remember himself, politely averting his gaze for a moment. He swallowed and cleared his throat, before he lifted his head back up to meet Jason’s eyes.

The mysterious stranger was a little shorter than himself. Maybe a tad shorter than Roy, but he held himself with such grace and confidence. He was a maybe a little older than Jason, but his looks were more boyish, though still masculine. He had dark hair, a little messy and a little long, and his expression was open and friendly. The curve of his mouth was warm and inviting, and Jason couldn’t help but stare back into those amazing eyes…. And _oh god_ , Jason was entranced. He’d seen him for barely even ten seconds and he was drooling like a fool.

There was an extremely awkward silence. Jason was frozen in place, mouth partially hanging open, undecided on whether he should punch Roy Harper in the face for setting him up to look like an idiot in front of a drop-dead gorgeous stranger, or running back into his dressing room to hide away forever in shame.

“Jay, I want you to meet an old buddy of mine,” Roy didn’t even try to hold back his snigger. “This is Dick Grayson.”

Dick Grayson? _Richard_ Grayson? Now that Roy had introduced him, Jason saw that he looked familiar. He’d seen his face splashed across the tabloids and social media. Plastered across billboards and filling magazine spreads. The playboy socialite and model -- none other than _that_ Richard Grayson, the adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne.

Holy shit. Of course Roy would know him. He was similarly adopted by fellow billionaire Oliver Queen after all. They had probably gone to all the same spoiled rich kid parties. They had probably grown up drinking together, gone through the same endless rotation of floozies, and done all the same drugs that turned Roy into an addict before he went clean. _That_ Dick Grayson.

Jason felt instantly on edge. Roy had stayed clean for over a year, and Jason was going to help him stay that way. Roy didn’t need some spoiled rich kid from his past tempting him and dragging him off the wagon, no matter how fucking hot he was.  

“Hi. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Dick extended his hand in greeting, and Jason just stared at it. He didn’t move to take his hand, he just scowled.

Roy nudged him with an elbow, and Jason finally took his hand and gave it a firm shake before quickly letting go. Dick seemed a little puzzled at Jason’s cold demeanor, but to his credit he didn’t react. In fact, he seemed completely undeterred as he continued to try and break the ice.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Dick continued to smile, “I’ve had to wear much worse in some of my modeling jobs.”

Jason could just imagine. He’d been through enough promotional photo-shoots at this point to know the kinds of things fashion-type-people liked to throw around. With Dick’s stunningly good looks, he could just imagine the kinds of revealing outfits they’d try to put on him. Or not put on him for that matter. He really could imagine….

 _Stop!_ He told himself. He had to stop imagining, or he was going to get derailed. He didn’t like spoiled rich kids, therefore he didn’t like Dick. He had to be a good friend to Roy, even if Dick was the physical embodiment of all his fantasies. Dick was distracting, and that was bad. Bad, bad, bad. He had to _resist_. Dick Grayson had to go away. Fast.

“What are you doing here?” Jason said curtly, trying his hardest not to look at the way Dick had subtly wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. And the expression on his face at Jason’s harsh tone… he looked slightly confused, and wait… did he look a little bit hurt? Jason tried not to think about it. _Bad!_  He chided himself in his head.

Dick recovered quickly though. The grin and the humor disappeared, only to be replaced with a neutral, business-like tone. “I’m going to be your liaison for the Wayne Foundation,” he said. “I’ll be your point of contact to work through some of the promotional materials and interviews we’ve got planned.”

Damn. That meant Dick Grayson was not going away.  

“Talk to Talia. She’s our manager.” That oughta stick it to him, Jason thought. Jason had never met Bruce, but he knew Talia and Bruce didn’t exactly get along, and Jason didn’t doubt that some level of animosity extended to Dick. Talia was bitter over having lost the custody battle for Damian. Talia had purposefully kept Jason out of all the drama, but he still remembered watching her silently grieve the loss of her son in the months and years following Damian’s departure. She still saw him occasionally, but it was clear that Damian was now more his father’s son than her own.

“Right, um,” Dick’s composure faltered slightly. Hah. “Well, the two of us are already scheduled to do a promotional interview together with Vicki Vale from the _Gotham Gazette_ next week -- to represent the Wayne Foundation Literacy Projects. I thought we should, I dunno, get to know each other a little bit beforehand.”

Shit. This was about the Literacy Project and raising money for underserved children. Not about catering to spoiled rich kids and rockstar egos. They had to appear united during the interview to effectively promote what they were trying to do, and it would make sense if they could talk through the approach together first.

“Fine,” Jason tried to dampen the bite in his words. “I’m free for lunch on Thursday.”

“Great,” Dick immediately brightened, and they exchanged contact info. “Well, I’ll see you then, I guess. I just wanted to say, I’m actually a big fan, so I’m glad we’ll get to work together for a bit.” He smiled again, and it was like a floodlight. Jason could practically feel the energy emanating from him in waves. It made Jason want to hate him. Nobody should be that happy. His energy was contagious. It was almost irresistible, and despite himself, Jason found himself re-evaluating his earlier assessment of Dick. He didn’t seem like the superficial bimbo playboy Jason had initially thought he was. He seemed genuinely nice and charming, but at the same time, Jason knew nice and charming was dangerous. Jason could see the ease with which someone like Dick could cajole and pressure someone like Roy into doing things that weren’t good for him, and so Jason remained wary.

“Uh yeah. Thanks,” Jason managed to say, unsure of how to respond.  

“Oh, before I go,” Dick pulled a folded magazine that had somehow been tucked inside his blazer. “You might have already seen this, but Vicki’s already done a pretty flattering write up about you in an editorial for _Growling Stone_ magazine. I can’t say she’s ever done the same for me, but we can’t all be Gotham’s favorite rockstar I guess.”

Jason took the magazine, and Dick said goodbye to Roy by throwing his arms around him in a hug. He almost did the same to Jason, even though they had just met, but at the last minute, he apparently recognized how uncomfortable Jason was, and settled for another handshake.

Roy waved to him as he walked away, and Jason retreated back into his dressing room.

*************************************************

“Dude!” Roy followed Jason into his dressing room as soon as Dick was out of sight. “What. The. Hell? What was with the icey death stare? What have you got against Dick?”

Jason had already begun stripping out of the ridiculous outfit. He probably tore a few new holes in the already holey shirt, but, whatever. He turned back to Roy as soon as he donned a regular t-shirt, “I thought you said you weren’t hanging with your old crowd anymore, Roy? You asked me to help you stay clean, and I am, but if you’re falling off, you need to tell me. Right now.”

Jason had instituted a zero tolerance drug policy with the crew on tour and at their after-parties. Cigarettes and booze were allowed, given those would be nearly impossible to ban and Jason himself wasn’t about to give those up, but anything harder was strictly forbidden. Band member or not, if anyone was caught doing or dealing in any drugs, they were permanently kicked to the curb. He hadn't done it for just Roy's sake however. Memories of his mom’s overdose left Jason permanently wary of drugs in general.

Roy seemed taken aback at Jason's words however, “You think I’m using again? Oh wait. _Oh_.” Realization dawned, and he backtracked. “No no no. You’ve got it all wrong. He wasn’t part of _that_ crowd. Dick’s good people. He’s not like that at all. We met back when we were kids at Titans Summer Camp, along with Kori. And he’s like best buddies with the commissioner’s daughter, and she is beyond _straight edge_! He might seem airheaded and slutty in the media, because the paparazzi are jerks, but Dick Grayson is a boy scout. He’s the golden boy. Cleaner than clean.”

“Oh.” Jason was unexpectedly relieved. He’d been ready to continue hating on Dick Grayson to protect Roy, but now that he didn’t have to, he just felt like the biggest jackass on the planet.

“Well,” Roy had a hand on his hip, and was wagging the other hand with a disapproving finger at Jason. “Not that I don’t appreciate you trying to look out for me, but you totally blew it!”

“What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? _Mr. I-don’t-believe-I’m-sexy-but-I-really-am_?” Roy rolled his eyes. “He’s totally into you. Even before all this, Dick was practically begging me for your number.”

“Oh.” Jason was still getting over the fact that not only was Dick a specimen of human perfection, but Roy was saying he was actually a decent person, and Jason had just treated him like absolute garbage.

“ _Oooh_ ,” Roy said mockingly, lowering his voice an octave in some poor caricature of Jason. “You’re fucking clueless, you know that? That’s why I had to take matters into my own hands to orchestrate what was supposed to be the sexiest ‘meet-cute’ ever.”

“I knew it,” Jason groused. “You made me look like an idiot in this stupid outfit on purpose!”

“Duh! Because did you not see how much Dick wanted to rip what very little clothing you were wearing off and jump you?” Roy laughed. “Dick is Mr. Squeaky Clean, but he loves the bad boy vibes like a man starved. Too bad I’m not into guys, otherwise he’d be all over me, too.”

“Ugh,” Jason flopped into a chair and put his head into his hands. “I hate you, Roy Harper.”

“You say that now, but you’ll thank me later for setting you two up.” Roy patted his shoulder, “Now, you’ve got another chance with him on Thursday. Make it count!”

Jason just shrugged, deciding that ignoring Roy would be the best course of action. Talking about Dick Grayson wanting to rip his clothes off was bringing up all sorts of unwanted feelings and images. He kept picturing the way Dick’s tongue had flicked out to wet his lips. It had taken all of a second in real life, but in his mind he kept replaying it in excruciating slow motion. He saw the wet tip of Dick's tongue glide over the fullness of his lips, glistening with saliva, pink and flushed after he had pressed them together…. Jason’s pants suddenly felt a little tight, and damnit, he was still wearing the stupid fishnet and leather poor-excuse-for-a-pair-of-pants that was full of so many goddamned holes. These were not the pants to be wearing if Jason got fully aroused. No, no, no. He was sure by now his face was beet red, and he purposefully did not look up. Roy was still in the room. He could hear him laughing just a couple feet away.

Jason had to distract himself.

He looked around his dressing room and spied the magazine Dick had handed to him earlier. He picked it up, flipping through to find the article about him and started to read, but Roy suddenly snatched it out of his hands.

“Hey, give that back!” Jason stood up and tried to take it back, but Roy fended him off.

“Let’s see what Dickie-boy’s been reading about you,” Roy giggled and started to read aloud. _“A rare gem of artistry in an industry currently saturated with vapid ditties about sex and drugs. Lyricism steeped in deep metaphor, cryptic references to classical literature, and commentary on social justice and the human condition are all cleverly wrapped up in a complex orchestration of moody guitars, soul-pounding beats, and sensual vocals.”_

Roy waggled his eyebrows at that, and Jason kicked him in the shin. That earned him a yowl, but Roy didn’t let go of the magazine. Jason decided it wasn’t worth it. Instead, he hunted around the room for his jeans so he could change out of the gawdawful _holey_ pants.

Roy recovered from Jason’s attack, and continued to read, _“The sound is raw and emotional. In fact, one could almost say there's a barely concealed current of rage running all throughout the Outlaw’s new album, ‘Resurrection.’ Anger is intrinsic and a core part of Jason Todd’s soundscape (stage name Red Hood, lead vocalist and songwriter).”_

“She actually has a pretty good read on you, Jay,” Roy commented.

Jason didn't respond. He had finally found his pants, and stripped out of the tangle of leather mesh around his legs. He hadn't been able to fit his boxers under the pants, so he ended up flashing Roy as he changed. He paid no mind to Roy’s suggestive whistle. They'd had to change in front of each other numerous times in shared dressing rooms, and they had both seen it all at this point.  

 _“Though the album is appropriately labeled for it's explicit content_ ,” Roy went back to reading aloud, _“there is a deep intellectualism that somehow avoids estranging Gotham's youth….”_  

He paused. “She goes on and on, and doesn't even mention the rest of us Outlaws. Wow, Jay. Vicki Vale has like the biggest hard on for you. If she had a cock that is.”

“Shut up, Roy.” Jason finished zipping up his jeans, silently thanking whoever made them that they included a fly button, like a normal pair of pants should.

“When have you ever known me to shut up?” Roy tossed the magazine aside. “Besides, we have to plan how you're gonna make it up to Dick after lunch tomorrow.”

“I'm not planning anything. We're just going to work out what our focus will be when we talk to Vicki Vale.”

Roy made a frustrated sound, shaking his fist in the air. “God, Jay. You're no fun at all. Did you take a vow of celibacy or something? You're the hottest thing on the rock music scene. People are throwing themselves at your feet, and I've never seen you take anyone up on it.”

“I do,” Jason said defensively. “Sometimes. I just don't do public sex, and I don't like one night stands.” He didn't say it out loud, but Jason didn't like getting intimate with someone he didn't know. It made him feel too vulnerable, and it reminded him of life on the streets. Plus touring with a band didn't leave much room for meeting people he could form a longer term relationship with, so his liaisons were few and far between.

“See. That right there,” Roy said triumphantly. “That's why you're perfect for each other. You and Dick are like two peas in a pod. You just don't know it yet!”

Jason doubted that. Even though Roy claimed otherwise, from what he could remember from the press, Dick flitted from one girlfriend or boyfriend to another in rapid fire succession. Jason would probably just be another conquest to notch on his loosely fastened belt.

As much as he thought Dick was hot, and as much as a superficial fling with him was tempting, he didn't want to be known as Dick Grayson's latest floozy. He wanted to make something of himself and be recognized on his own merits for his art. He had a slew of new musical ideas he wanted to explore and a promising career to build.

No way was he going to let some rich playboy -- nice guy underneath or not-- get in the way of what he wanted to do. He already had plenty on his plate to keep him busy and Dick Grayson would just be a needless distraction. Jason resolved to be dead set against getting any further involved with Dick than in his capacity as a representative of the Wayne Foundation.  

He kept telling himself that as he left the dressing room, trying not to think of how Dick's bright blue eyes made him feel a strange wanting inside.

He kept telling himself that as he had dinner with Talia that night, trying to push the memory of Dick’s infections smile out of his head as he tried to concentrate on updating his adoptive mother on their rehearsal.

He kept telling himself that as he lay in bed that night, trying to suppress his arousal and the thought of Dick Grayson’s warm hot mouth, that flick of his tongue against the wetness of his lips. He couldn’t help it. He reached a hand down into his shorts and stroked himself until he came.

He kept telling himself that as he tried to go to sleep, but it was useless. Dick Grayson was invading not only his every waking moment, but his dreams.

Shit. He was so fucked.

 _Fuck you, Roy. This is your fault,_ he thought, as he finally succumbed to sleep.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * I was thinking of the poem "Dolores", subtitled "Notre-Dame des Sept Douleurs" (Our Lady of Pain) when writing lyrics for Jason’s song Resurrection. It was written by English poet Algernon Charles Swinburne, first published in his 1866 Poems and Ballads. It's basically 440 lines that relates the cruelty of the goddess Dolores, a corrupted representation of the “divine feminine.” 
>   * Plug in the sound of your favorite band, but in case you were wondering, I kept picturing (hearing? listening?) A Perfect Circle’s newest album Eat the Elephant as I was writing this. I swear Maynard Keenan has one of the most beautiful male singing voices in the rock genre, and he’s actually quite adaptable given he does some pretty heavy alt rock. I think Maynard Keenan is more of a tenor though, and I picture Jason with a deeper voice -- more of a baritone.
> 



	2. Chapter 2

“You hide too much of yourself, Jason,” Kori commented. “You should let the world see as much of you as you truly are.”

“I can do that without revealing quite this much skin,” Jason sighed. He was trying on the ridiculous outfit Kori had chosen for him again at her insistence instead of finalizing their set design.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of.” Kori lifted a hand to adjust the tattered rags of his so-called shirt until the largest rip in the fabric stretched a few more inches below his navel.

Jason batted her hands away. “I'm not _ashamed_. It's just not what I'm trying to sell.”

“You are oddly conservative for one who claims to be a rebel,” Kori intoned as she threw her hair back over her shoulders. _She_ certainly wasn't ashamed, judging by the dress she was wearing. Jason wasn’t even sure how it stayed on -- it was a strappy purple ensemble that sported a plunging neckline going all the way down to her navel, barely covering her breasts. Kori was completely comfortable with her body, and didn't mind showing it off. Jason liked that about her -- her confidence and self-assuredness -- it was quintessential Kori, but it wasn't Jason. “So then what is it you are trying to sell?” She added.

“My music. My art,” Jason replied. “What I'm wearing should be secondary. I'm the Red Hood. I should just stick to my red hoodie.”

Kori sighed in frustration. “You are far too single minded sometimes. You're no fun at all.”

“I'm plenty fun,” Jason retorted, but he recalled Roy had said pretty much the same thing the other day when he was trying to tempt Jason with the prospects of a hookup with Dick Grayson. Was he really that up tight? Maybe he _should_ entertain a fling with the trashiest socialite in Gotham, just to prove them wrong. And the truth was he still hadn't managed to get the image of Dick's stunningly hot face out of his head.

“Did you know Dick Grayson well?” Jason found himself asking before he could filter himself. “From back when you guys went to Titans camp together? Roy wants us to hook up, but I dunno. I was just wondering, I guess.”

“I did. Too well,” she gave a reminiscent sigh, looking off into the distance of the dressing room they were standing in. “We were together for a long time. He was my first love.”

“Oh,” Jason felt a little awkward. Kori had never mentioned that. “What was he like?”

“If you are asking me to comment on his sexual proclivity, then I can assure you that you will not be disappointed.”

“Uh no. That's not what I meant, but I guess that's good to know.” In fact it confirmed what Jason had suspected, that Dick got around, even back in his Titans days. “So why’d you break up? If you don't mind my asking. Roy seems to think he's a good guy, but the media says otherwise.”

“I don't mind, Jason,” but Kori seemed a little sad as she said it. “We were both very young. I made the mistake of loving him more than he could love me. He may have grown since then. I don't really know, but Roy is not wrong. Dick is not a bad person, but that does not mean he will not break your heart.”

It was surprisingly honest, and Jason couldn't help but feel a little angry that Dick would hurt Kori so much, intentional or not. “You're an amazing person,” Jason wanted to make sure she knew. “He was a fool to let you go.”

“Perhaps, but I do not dwell on what could have been. Whatever you decide, Jason, my past with Dick is in the past. We are friends now. I only want that if you choose to be seduced, then that you will be careful.”

Those were words from the wise, and Jason resolved to take heed.

*************************************************

Jason wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the private booth in the three-star Michelin restaurant nestled inside Gotham’s ritzy Diamond district. Once he thought about it, it wasn’t surprising. Rich-boy Dick Grayson was probably used to being pampered and spoiled by all of Gotham’s finest restaurants. It figured he wouldn’t settle for a run-of-the-mill diner. No, it had to be a fancy-ass cafe where the hostess greeted him at the door and addressed him by name without him even introducing himself. He supposed Dick made reservations as she led him into a comfortably secluded room at the back of the restaurant.

Dick was already seated in the private booth, chatting with a waitress as Jason approached. The waitress giggled as Dick made some kind of joke that Jason didn’t quite catch, and then she scribbled something on her guest check pad before folding it up and tucking it into the breast pocket of Dick’s shirt. Jason realized she had probably given Dick her phone number, and Jason didn’t try to hide the scowl that crept onto his face as the waitress skittered away. He thought it was extremely unprofessional for her to be flirting so blatantly with a customer, and it had been tacky of Dick to be entertaining it.

Dick looked somewhat perplexed, as if he hadn't expected the waitress to do as such, but as soon as he saw Jason approach, he rose from his chair in greeting. Jason noted that Dick was dressed a little oddly as he did so. His blue and black striped shirt clashed horribly with his yellow gingham pants, but with his looks, Jason supposed Dick could pretty much get away with anything.  

“Jay!” He said his name as if they were old friends. As if they had known each other forever, and he was genuinely happy to see him even after how coldly Jason had treated him the previous day. “Sorry about all the frou-frou, but I wanted to make sure we had some privacy. You never know when the paparazzi are lurking behind the corner.”

 _Frou-frou?_ Who the hell said frou-frou with a straight face? And the worry about privacy and the paparazzi? He wasn’t sure if Dick was being serious or if it was just some sleazy way of being suggestive about giving them _privacy_. Jason disliked the situation immediately. He didn't want to be in a room alone with Dick Grayson, because that meant that there wouldn't be any other distractions. He would be trapped for the next hour or so, staring at Dick's impossibly attractive face and pretending that the man’s mere presence didn't threaten to undo his self control.

Jason stamped down his inner turmoil. He could get through this. It was just a stupid lunch to talk about their upcoming interview. He’d done a zillion interviews before. They just had to divvy up the things they wanted to highlight about the literacy project, but first, Jason had to make things right after acting like a tool the day before. He had been relieved to find out he was mostly wrong, and his own personal code demanded he eat a little crow and apologize.

They each scooted into opposite sides of the booth, and Jason took a deep breath before starting. “Dick, look, I’m sorry about being kind of a jerk yesterday. I want to apologize.”

“It’s fine,” Dick smiled warmly, and Jason kind of melted a little bit inside. “Roy explained you were just trying to look out for him. You’re a good friend, and I can’t say I blame you for assuming the worst of me given the kind of press I get.”

Dick wasn’t kidding about the press. Jason had spent part of the morning doing internet searches on Dick. He’d come up with a deluge of images (it was unfair how somehow all of them were flattering), with some gorgeous girl or guy on his arm, but they were always in the context of some kind of party or thrill-seeking escapade. It painted a picture of someone who had far too much time and money on their hands, and who wasn’t really doing much with their life. Sure, Dick worked as a model here and there, but was modeling even really a job? In Dick's case, it seemed more like an excuse to flaunt his vanity, and Jason still wasn’t entirely convinced that at least part of the media depiction wasn’t true.  

At the same time, Dick’s nice-guy demeanor was incredibly disarming, and Roy said he was _good people_. Roy didn't always have the best judgement, but Jason did trust him, so he supposed he would make an effort to give Dick the benefit of the doubt.

They ordered their food and the conversation turned to the interview. Dick had the elevator speech on the purpose and mission of the Wayne Foundation down pat, so it was decided he would essentially do all the talking on that end. Jason would come in with the personal experiences, relating his own story of how he had benefited from similar programs as a kid growing up in the system. It all seemed fairly straightforward, until Dick steered the conversation in another direction.

“There’s one more thing I wanted to bring up with you,” Dick said. His demeanor had changed from friendly happy-go-lucky to dead serious. The change was actually kind of scary.

“And what’s that?” Jason asked.

“Gotham reporters are known for being vultures, and Vicki’s no exception,” Dick explained. “We agreed to do the interview on the condition that the Wayne Foundation has to approve the final publication, so nothing we don’t want printed will be printed. But that doesn’t mean that Vicki won’t take the opportunity of having the two of us in front of her to dig up some dirt for a future exposé.”

“I’m not gonna spill any deep dark secrets, if that’s what you’re implying,” Jason scoffed. “And I hardly know you, I’m not going to be spilling any of your beans either.”

“I’m not saying you would, but Vicki’s got a nose for these things, and sometimes not saying something is enough to give her a lead.” Dick drummed his fingers on the table, a little fidgety suddenly. “Look, you know there’s a connection between us….”

A connection? What connection? He didn’t mean Jason’s attraction, did he? He’d been trying really hard not to stare throughout lunch, but it was hard when Dick was the only other person in the room. Still, he wasn’t _that_ obvious was he?

“Talia,” Dick clarified when Jason failed to answer.

Oh. Jason was relieved for all of a second, before he realized what Dick was saying. Damian’s appearance as the newest Wayne heir was widely speculated upon in the tabloids. The details around the custody battle had been suppressed, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still fodder for the gossip rags. Adding to that, Jason’s official adoption had never made the papers, probably more due to the fact that he was a nobody at the time rather than Talia’s army of lawyers, but in the context of her losing custody after adopting another boy… well that could certainly be interpreted as scandal.

They’d avoided this before, because Jason had very little to do with Gotham and even less to do with the Waynes after Talia had taken him out of the country. His connection to Talia was beginning to surface though, because she operated as the Outlaws’ manager, and it was only a matter of time before someone like Vicki Vale started to put two and two together.

“Shit. Who’s idea was it to do this partnership? This could be a shitstorm if it gets out.” Now it made more sense to Jason why Talia had been initially opposed to the idea. She had ultimately let him do what he wanted, and he hadn’t realized that in doing so she had undoubtedly agreed to risk some unwanted exposure.

“Well, it was _my_ idea,” Dick admitted. “I guess I hadn’t really thought it through when I proposed it to the Foundation. I just wanted to see you perform back in Gotham. So I could meet you.”

Dick had been the one who wanted the Outlaws to play in Gotham? So he could meet Jason? “What does that mean, so you could meet me?”

Dick smiled. He reached a hand out to brush his thumb across the back of Jason's hand. “I thought it was obvious.”

Jason pulled his hand away, because _no_. No, it wasn't _obvious_. It couldn’t mean what Dick was implying, that he had wanted to meet Jason and came up with some elaborate scheme to bring him back to his hometown to play a concert, just for the chance to hook up. That was absolutely ridiculous and so far from what Jason had resolved himself to do -- to avoid Dick Grayson like the plague because a hookup with the most gorgeous man on the planet would leave him wanting for more, and Jason didn’t want to be left wanting more. People like Dick never stuck around. He certainly didn't with Kori, and she was a far better catch than Jason. Inevitably, Dick would move on from him faster than lightning and Jason would be left lurching in the dust. Jason did not have time to chase a man who would only doom him to heartbreak.

This conversation was done. Jason threw some money on the table and got up.

“You’re leaving?” Dick looked surprisingly disappointed.

“Yeah. I got work to do. I’ll see you at the interview next week.” It took all of his self control to walk out of the restaurant without looking back.

*************************************************

“What is the matter, little one?” Artemis nudged Jason with her foot, though coming from her, it felt more like a kick in the ribs.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” Jason deflected.  

It was a couple days later, and they were lounging on a couch in the break room of their recording studio. Jason had been fiddling with his acoustic guitar and Artemis had crashed beside him, putting her feet up on the the cushions beside him and draping her head and long hair over the opposite armrest. He was supposed to be tinkering with the chord progression of a new song, but for the last ten minutes all he had done was pluck a few scale passages. He wasn't getting anywhere because he had been daydreaming about a certain pair of breathtaking blue eyes. They shone like gemstones. Like aquamarines. He’d never seen blue eyes like that. They were so much more vivid than his own dull greenish-blue ones.

“I can practically hear you brooding,” Artemis nudged him again, this time with her heel, and it hurt just enough to jar him out of his obsessive daydream.

“You can hear me brooding?” Jason snarked. “What does it sound like?”

“Like Stanley Kowalski screaming ‘Stella’ in a _Streetcar Named Desire_ ,” she said with a derisive snort.

“You’re full of shit. I am _not_ like that,” Jason grumbled.

“I know, I was only teasing,” Artemis went back to poking him with her toes. “But tell me, what is occupying your mind so much that you can barely play two chords. Something is bothering you.”

Jason sighed, pushed Artemis’ legs away from attacking his ribs, as he thought over what to say. “Art, are you seeing anyone?”

Artemis quirked a brow at him, and then sat up. “You know it did not work out between us that way, Jason. I am happy with our friendship as it is now.”

“No! That’s not what I mean,” Jason huffed. He and Artemis had a brief fling after they met in a bar fight. She’d kicked his ass in a major way, but he’d put up enough of a fight that she found him somewhat cute. In the end though, Artemis felt Jason’s maturity level just couldn’t keep up, and she didn’t want to be both a lover and babysitter to some rough and tumble kid who couldn’t hold his own against her. They had stayed friends though. They were much better that way, and even better as bandmates and working partners. She was smart and incredibly perceptive too, and sometimes she could see things that Jason couldn’t. It wasn’t surprising that she had noticed something was on his mind.

“What I mean is, are you seeing anyone else?” Jason clarified. “Since we’ve started doing this Outlaws thing?”

“I see,” Artemis responded. “No. I have not had the time to meet anyone else. We’ve been busy with the album, we are debuting the largest production we have ever done at the Gala next month, and then we are going on tour. It would be hard to form a new romantic relationship under these circumstances. ”

Exactly. All the more reason why Jason shouldn’t be trying to start some new fling with the _king of all flings_ , Dick Grayson. He hardly knew the man anyway. It was just some superficial sexual attraction. Maybe Jason just needed to get laid? The problem was he couldn’t get Dick out of his head. Couldn’t imagine trying to sleep with anyone else if all he could do was picture Dick’s perfect features in the throes of passion, his body writhing underneath him….

“You’re thinking about that pretty man Harper has been droning on about,” Artemis interrupted his thoughts, and Jason was once again surprised at her perceptiveness. “I don’t see what the problem is. Bed him, and move on.”

“What if I don’t want to move on though? What if I don’t like one and done? What if I wanted something more?”

“Then take a chance,” Artemis flopped back down onto the couch, this time with her feet in Jason’s lap. “Like I did with you. It did not turn out the way either of us expected, but I don’t regret it, and I enjoy what we have now. Perhaps even if it does not work for you to be lovers, you will still gain something from putting yourself out there.”

“Maybe.” Jason wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Artemis was experienced. She knew what she was talking about, especially when it came to taking a chance. She’d had her heart broken by her childhood friend, and had closed herself off from others similarly in order to protect herself, but here she was telling Jason to do the exact opposite. Maybe she was right?

“I have never known you to let fear stop you from doing what you want, Jason,” Artemis added. “Do not start now.”

“Thanks, Art,” Jason finally said. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” She gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder as she got up from the couch. It nearly knocked him to the floor. Artemis was ridiculously strong. It was no wonder he had lost to her in the initial bar fight where they’d met.

She left him to brood a little more in the break room. Jason continued to tinker with the chords as he mulled over Artemis’ advice. Maybe a fling with Dick Grayson wouldn’t be so bad. He couldn’t get his heart broken if it was just sex right?

Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he’d believe it.


	3. Chapter 3

The day of the interview came, and the first part of it went as planned. Dick and Jason were hustled about the studios at the Gotham Gazette by their promotional agents to prep hair and makeup, but while Jason made do with his regular outfit of worn jeans and leather jacket, a professional wardrobing company had been hired to dress Dick. Jason couldn’t help but roll his eyes, because _of course_ a pampered model and playboy couldn’t be bothered to pick out his own clothes. After over an hour of fussing, primping, coiffing and staging, they went through a painstakingly meticulous photo shoot that eventually took the entirety of the afternoon.  

At least all Jason had to do was sit in a chair and look surly. The bad boy rep served him well in all sorts of situations. Dick on the other hand, ran through a ridiculous slew of poses, angling his head this way, then that way. Turning his back to the camera to show off his backside in a pair of ridiculously tight jeans and glancing over his shoulder. Buttoning and then unbuttoning his shirt. Sitting languidly, and then standing with his arms behind his head, back arched.

Jason caught himself staring more than once. He couldn't help it, not with Dick parading his assets so blatantly for the camera.  _God_. He hated models.

Hated them.  

That's what he kept telling himself as he tried to avert his gaze.

By the time they sat down for the interview it was running late into the evening. Jason was moody and tired, but Dick was irritatingly chipper as he gave Vicki Vale his spiel about the Wayne Foundation mission. He flashed his bright smile and talked a good game like a born performer. He was composed and eloquent, and even Jason found himself hanging on Dick’s every word. Dick was a master showman it seemed.

When it was time for Jason to chime in, it came out much less prepared and articulate, but he managed to speak naturally. He was sincere when he related his experiences growing up in Crime Alley, remembering his mother and how much he had enjoyed and benefited from visiting the local library.  

Vicki took it all in, calm and intently listening. She’d been friendly and convivial with him throughout the photo shoot and interview, and even gushed a little about how much she enjoyed listening to _Resurrection_ , but her demeanor changed as they closed in on the end of the discussion.

“So how is it that a boy like yourself,” Vicki gestured at Jason, “left to fend for himself in Gotham’s foster system with no blood relations, manages to find himself traveling across Europe and Asia over the next several years in what amounts to an incredibly in-depth independent study program? You’ve been intentionally vague with the public about how you ended up leaving Gotham.”

Jason shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like where this was going, but he and Talia had come up with various ways to deflect this very question. “I was fortunate enough to meet a benefactor who wanted to help me foster my musical interests. They would like to remain unnamed, so I’ll respect their wishes.”

Vicki wasn’t satisfied with his answer, and went straight for the carotid with her next question, “What is your relation to Talia Al Ghul?”

Beside him, Dick subtly stiffened, and Jason realized too late that he had clenched his fists. “She’s the manager of the Outlaws,” he said simply.

“Is that all?” Vicki didn’t let up.

“Yes, of course,” Jason managed to keep his voice cool. “She’s done a lot for us. She does a good job.”

Vicki kept digging, “You’re often seen escorting Ms. Al Ghul to various functions. You’ve been seen dining with her at least twice a week since you’ve been staying in Gotham. Could you comment on your personal relationship with Ms. Al Ghul?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Ms. Vale,” Jason hedged.

“It's been said that the two of you are… close, though Ms. Al Ghul is quite a bit older than you. It's clear that your association with her goes beyond the strictly professional, and both of you claim to be unattached.”

Strictly speaking, the words she chose didn’t necessarily mean anything bad, but there was something in her tone that Jason didn’t like. She was implying something salacious, and Jason had shot up from his chair before he even realized he was angry, “What the hell are you trying to say? You better not be implying what I think you are!”

Dick stood up as well, but fortunately he was calm. He put a reassuring hand in front of Jason, pushing him gently to take a step back before turning back to Vicki, “Ms. Vale, this matter isn’t related to next month's concert gala and is not up for discussion. If you’d like to enquire further, then I’ll have to ask that you contact our legal representatives.”

Jason stormed out, seething. He wasn’t sure why he had reacted so badly, but Talia had been through enough with the media when Damian left to live with Bruce. He didn’t want _Vicki the Vulture_ taking out another pound of flesh at Talia’s expense. Talia had been good to him. She had taken care of him when he was alone. She was like a second mother to him, and he wanted to defend and protect her honor. Even the barest hint that Talia had done anything wrong… anything evenly remotely inappropriate… that just rubbed him the wrong way.

“Jason, wait up!” Dick shouted from somewhere behind him, and Jason realized he had exited the Gotham Gazette offices and was now striding aimlessly down the street in the middle of Gotham’s Downtown.  

“Come on, take it easy, Jay.” Dick put a hand on his shoulder, and Jason tried to shake him off, but Dick just grabbed onto him again and tried to steer him in the opposite direction. “Let’s call a cab and go somewhere and calm down.”

Jason shrugged him off again, “Fuck off.” He marched away, pulling a cigarette from his jacket and lighting up. He took a long drag, feeling the hot burn of smoke heating his lungs. It felt good. He felt better, but he wanted something else to take off the edge. “I’m gonna go get a drink,” he said aloud. To Dick. To nobody, he didn’t care.

Their interview had gone late, and it was now well into the evening in downtown Gotham. There were plenty of bars along the street, and Jason picked one, but he was stopped by a man at the door. “ID,” the man said.

Shit. Jason had been living in Europe where it was perfectly fine for a twenty-year old to buy a drink, but the legal drinking age in the US was twenty-one. He didn’t have any fake IDs on him.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said with a curse, and turned around and nearly toppled over as he ran into Dick, who had been following closely behind.

“Jay, maybe you should go home or something?” Dick had caught him, and kept a hand on Jason as his other hand hailed a cab. He pushed Jason into the backseat as soon as it pulled over, but before Dick could name a destination, Jason beat him to it.

“First and Park,” Jason said to the cab driver.

“What? Jay, no,” Dick had climbed in beside him. “That’s near the Bowery.”

“I know,” was all Jason deigned to reply, daring Dick to question him.

To his surprise, Dick didn’t argue. He just settled beside Jason, stroking his arm softly as if to soothe him, and this time Jason didn’t shake him off. It felt good. His movements were both soft and firm. He felt steady. Dick was turning out to be way more level-headed and controlled than Jason would have thought. He supposed growing up hounded by Gotham gossip mongers and paparazzi required the development of some pretty thick skin. He hadn’t given Dick enough credit before. Maybe the media had always been unfair to him, and Roy was actually right. Dick wasn’t just some spoiled rich boy. Maybe he really was a nice guy….

“Where are we going?” Dick ventured to ask.

Jason winked back at him. He was feeling less angry. Dick was somehow making Jason feel at ease, but he was still a little high strung. He was still feeling a little reckless. He still wanted a drink, and Jason knew a few places where nobody bothered to card. He was from Gotham after all.

The cab ride took nearly forty minutes in Gotham traffic, but eventually the driver dropped them off, and Jason followed the familiar streets and winding alleyways until he reached an unmarked door. He rapped five times, and called out, “Antone! You still in business?”

There was a rustling, a sliding of the slit-hatch in the door, before it burst open and a large gruff-looking man stepped out with arms open. “Jason! That you, kid? Fuck me, give ol’ Antone a hug!”

Jason let Antone pull him into a bear hug, squeezing him so hard he couldn’t breathe, but then he let go. “Whatcha doin’ here kid? I thought you moved on and got famous?”

“I’m in town for a while, I need a drink, man,” Jason let the Bowery accent Talia had trained out of him sneak back into his speech. “They won’t let me Downtown ‘cause I need a card.”

“Well you’re always welcome here, kid. Who’s your friend?” The man glanced behind Jason at Dick.

“That’s Dickie. He’s with me.”

Antone didn’t ask any more questions. That was part of his business, and they stepped through a narrow corridor which was actually a back entrance to a nightclub already in full swing. The place was dimly lit in a red glow, punctuated with flashes of white and blue strobe as throngs of people moved on the dance floor. Jason ordered a couple of beers after throwing back two shots of whiskey at the bar, then pulled Dick to sit on a bench in one of the farther corners of the club.

“Wow, you take a guy to all the nicest places!” Dick was almost shouting. The music was loud, a deep EDM rhythm that was literally vibrating the bench beneath their rears. Dick scooted closer to Jason as he took a swig from his glass.

“My old man used to run drugs in one of the backrooms. I used to hang here a lot.” Jason chugged half his beer, and looked across the room. This place was so fucked up. Half the people in the club were underaged. He knew because he used to spend a lot of time in places like this when his dad was still around. Still, Antone kept a decent stock of drinks, so he wasn’t complaining. He was feeling a little buzz from the shots of whiskey already. He didn’t get to drink much usually, because he didn’t want to make things hard for Roy, but right now Roy wasn’t around and he wanted to let loose a little. He threw back the rest of his beer and looked over at Dick.

He was looking back at Jason intently, and then he leaned in close to speak, talking over the loud music and into Jason’s ear. “Sorry about earlier,” he said, “with Vicki.”

Jason shrugged and turned to respond, only to find that Dick was only inches from his face. He backed up slightly, “Not your fault. You warned me,” he managed to say, while trying to avoid staring at the way Dick was licking his lips in the dim red light.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think she’d go for that particular angle.” Dick moved in close again, Jason could feel his thigh pressed against his own, and then, “You stuck up for Talia. You’re not really as much of a bad boy as you pretend to be.”

Jason swallowed. His mouth felt dry suddenly, and he turned away to take another gulp from his glass, only to realize he had already finished it. When he looked up again, Dick had moved even closer. Intimately close, right up in Jason’s personal space, leaning forward in front of him now, so that Jason had to lean backward against the wall to avoid touching. “That a good thing or bad thing?” He managed to croak out.

“It's good. Really good. But I already knew that after you stuck up for Roy,” Dick smiled and his head moved closer, turning a little so that his mouth was right up against Jason’s ear now. He could feel a hot breath gust against his neck as Dick’s lips brushed his earlobe, “It’s hot. _You're hot.”_

He pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face as he took Jason's hand in his own. “Dance with me.”

Jason let himself be pulled into the crowd on the dance floor.  _Oh what the hell, why not,_ he thought. It had been a while since he'd been on this side of a crowd. The Outlaws had started out playing in smaller nightclubs like this, but it had been a long time since he let himself loose a little just to dance.

Dick moved with the music, and his body was somehow like both liquid and fire. The deep reverberating beat seemed to ripple through his body, every pulse of it amplified in him like a throb. Jason could feel the heat of him every time they brushed together. Jason moved with him, losing himself in the beat. The rhythm. The sensation of synchronized bodies moving in time all around him. The push and pull of dance. The exchange of sensual touches and the smoldering look of Dick's half-lidded eyes with each flash of the strobe lights.

“Is that the Wayne kid?” Voices were starting to drift over, interrupting his thoughts. “Hey, is that the Red Hood?” People around were starting to recognize them it seemed.

“Holy shit! It's Red Hood!” Someone yelled. “Red Hood is in da house!”

There was a roar of cheers, people all around started clapping him on the back, and Jason’s attention was momentarily diverted away from Dick toward the throng of people that were suddenly focused on _him_.

The music began to subtly transition. Whoever the DJ was, he or she was really good, because they didn't miss a beat as they shifted from the house EDM to something more familiar. It was a little faster, the bass deeper and heavier… some kind of remix he’d never heard before, but Jason recognized it unmistakably as his own song, _The Cracks in Your Glamour._

Then the crowd was cheering again, going wild, chanting _“Red Hood! Red Hood!”_ as he was pushed toward the front of the room where he saw the DJ at her tables. It was hard to tell in the dim strobing lights, but she looked like an attractive blond in a crop top.

“I'm Spoiler,” she waved, and put a shot glass in his hand, which he quickly threw back -- it was some kind of jello shot -- and then she took the glass away and then pressed a microphone into his hand. The crowd exploded, and Jason took the hint. They wanted him to sing.

Who was he to deny his fans? He let Spoiler loop into the intro, and he began to sing.

 _The dirt, it clings,_  
_Onto all your pretty things._  
_You pretend it's not there,  
But there's filth everywhere._

 _Your mask of glitter and gold,_  
_A facade to enamor._  
_I'm gonna break you down,_  
_Like a growing mold,  
Through the cracks in your glamour._

 _Underneath, what's there?_  
_Without your ritzy ware,_  
_With your soul brought to bare,_  
_I can see the emptiness inside you,  
Through the cracks in your glamour._

 _Underneath, what's there?_  
_Without my armour or mask,_  
_Is there nothing there, I ask_  
_What do you see?  
Through the cracks in my glamour…._

It wasn't the same as having the Outlaws playing live behind him, but DJ Spoiler was pretty damn good. The beats meshed perfectly with the instrumentals of his song and the crowd went wild with it, the throng of bodies rolled and surged, rocked and rolled, dancing and buzzing like a hive of energy.

The song eventually ended, and there was another jello shot, more cheers, and Jason found himself cajoled into another song. DJ Spoiler queued another new remix of _Resurrection,_ which he once again indulged for the crowd.

By the time he stepped down, Jason had gone through half his set and swallowed another half a dozen jello shots. He was feeling a little lightheaded, but he felt _good._

“That was amazing,” Dick was there beside him, pulling him away from the crowd and back into a secluded corner. “That's why Gotham loves you. God, Jay,” his voice had gone husky. He pushed Jason back until he was seated on a bench. “I just want you. I want you so bad.”

Jason couldn’t help the shudder of arousal that coursed through him at that. Maybe the alcohol was loosening his inhibitions, maybe it was the performance high, or maybe it was the fact that Dick had now swung a leg over him and climbed into his lap. Dick had a wicked smile on his face as he pressed their bodies together. He ran his hands up and down Jason’s sides, gyrating his hips in a slow grind, grazing their crotches together so Jason could feel him getting hard. Jason lost every bit of self control. His body was responding, whether he liked it or not, and right now, he was leaning more to the side of liking it. Dick licked his lips, bit down on his bottom lip as he looked down with heavy lidded eyes at him. He knew what he was doing to Jason, and Jason couldn’t resist. Jason reached his hand up to cup the back of Dick’s head, coursing his fingers through his hair to draw him down into a kiss.

Dick’s mouth was hot and wet. He tasted sweet, with the slight bitterness of hops. He brought his hands up to cup Jason’s face, angling his head and pressing downward so that the back of Jason’s head was hitting the wall. Jason trailed his hands along Dick’s back, moving from his shoulder blades down to the globes of his ass, pulling him forward and further against him.  

He could feel the heat of Dick’s body, his calves were gripping around the outside of Jason’s thighs, and Dick was grinding himself harder against him. He could feel Dick’s fully erect cock through the material of his pants, rubbing against Jason’s fly… against the lower part of his belly. Jason was already uncomfortably tight in his own jeans. He thrust his hips up as Dick continued to grind against him, he snaked a hand up Dick’s shirt to feel the hard planes of his abs. He felt Dick do likewise, lifting his shirt to rub a thumb against his nipple. He felt another hand snake downward into the hem of his pants.

Jason groaned into Dick’s mouth and sucked hard on his tongue before pulling back to nibble at his lip. He kissed downward, suckling at Dick’s neck as Dick arched into him.

Suddenly, there was a flash that was too close and far too bright to be one of the strobe lights, and Dick jumped in his arms, recoiling. Jason blinked, trying to clear the blinding flash from his vision. He opened his eyes to see a camera in his face. There was a photographer… a paparazzi… taking pictures!

“What the fuck!” Jason scrambled out from under Dick to try and tackle the photographer, but the man squirreled away and ran. Jason gave chase, following him out the door, but he immediately jumped into a car and sped off. Jason was on foot, there was no way he could catch up. Shit.

Dick caught up behind him just as the car sped around the corner. He drew both his hands down his face, lingering over his mouth as he mumbled, “Daaaaamn, I should have known this would happen!”

Dick immediately dug into his pocket, whipping out his phone and began typing.

“What’re you doing?” Jason watched as Dick frantically tapped at the screen.

“Damage control,” Dick continued typing. “We’ve got a protocol for this. I need to contact the legal team as soon as possible to give them a heads up that we need a picture suppressed.”

“It was pretty dark in there,” Jason suggested. “Maybe he didn’t get a good picture. Maybe it won’t be that bad?”

Dick made a face, “Really? I’m sorry Jay, this is my fault. I’ll do what I can, but I have a feeling the press is gonna have a field day with this.”

“So let them have their fun,” Jason shrugged. He was feeling really buzzed. He couldn't quite remember how many drinks he'd had at this point. He stepped forward, intending to put a hand out to pull Dick towards him, but he stumbled slightly, feeling a little dizzy. He chuckled to himself, almost giggling as he struggled to right himself, and then Dick was there, pulling him back upright.

“You’re… I didn’t realize you were so drunk,” Dick smiled at him, it was somehow bittersweet, but all Jason could do was stare at the beautiful curve of his mouth. He wanted to taste Dick’s lips again, and he did, leaning forward to capture Dick’s bottom lip in his teeth. Dick let out a low whine at that, but he pulled away. “Jay… I want this, but I’d feel better if we tried this again when you’re more sober. I think we’d better get you home.”

“I’m not _that_ drunk,” Jason complained.

“I know, but things are going to be a mess tomorrow,” Dick replied, “and I don’t want you to do anything more that you’re going to regret.”

Well, that was a mood killer if there ever was one. In the end, there wasn’t any more he could do but wait for a cab and go home. Dick gave him a quick peck on the lips as he left Jason at his apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

Jason was a little disappointed Dick wasn’t coming up with him. So some shithead paparazzi took a picture. So what? It couldn’t be _that_ bad, right?

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

It was _bad._ Roy shoved his phone into Jason’s face as soon as he got to the studio the next morning. He’d woken up with a bad hangover, and hadn’t had time to check the news, but it seemed Roy wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Way to go man!” Roy raised his hand up for a high five, but Jason ignored it. Instead he grabbed the phone and stared at the picture.

It was so, _so bad_. The picture was not some dimly lit, grainy, pixelated impression. It was horribly well exposed and focused. Jason could clearly see himself seated on the bench against the wall, his shirt was pushed up his chest and Dick was teasing a nipple with one hand, his other hand was pushed down the front of Jason’s fly. Jason’s legs were slightly spread as he leaned forward, his tongue out and licking a slick line of wetness along Dick’s throat. And Dick… oh god, he looked downright _pornographic_. He was arching, his mouth hanging open as if in ecstacy, with Jason’s hands reaching under his shirt, lifting it just enough to expose his belly and the other hand pushing the hem of his pants down enough to see the crest of his hip. The angle the picture was taken at and Dick's position straddling Jason allowed the bulge of Dick’s erection to be clearly visible through his pants, the fabric stretched taut over his crotch.

“Shiiiiiit. Don’t tell me,” Jason said with dread, “don’t tell me this is up on social media.”

“Yep!” Roy replied cheerily. “I mean, hot damn, Jason. I’m not even gay, and I’m totally keeping this for my wank bank.”

Jason covered his face with his hands, feeling the heat flush his cheeks.

“You should hear the headlines too,” Roy kept talking.  _“Gotham’s favorite playboy at it again! This time with bad boy rockstar Jason Todd. Who’s corrupting who?”_ Roy practically guffawed. “What was it you said the other day? You don’t do public sex?”

“Shut up!” Jason wanted to strangle him. “I was drunk!”

“Hmmph,” another voice said from behind him, and Jason turned to see it was Artemis. She looked highly entertained. “Well, it is no surprise. We already knew Jason cannot hold his liquor.”

Jason wanted to _die_. “Christ, not you too!”

“I’ve warned you before, little one,” Artemis teased, “your tolerance for the drink is mediocre at best. It seemed you never learned your lesson from our first encounter. Though I must admit, this is a rather flattering picture for the both of you.”

“Okay, stop,” Jason covered his ears, “I don’t want to hear anymore. Both of you can just go suck it.”

“Yeah, us and literally every horny person on the planet after seeing this!” Roy chortled. “Dude, there’s no point in trying to deny it man,” Roy gave Jason a few pats on the back. “It is literally _everywhere_ on the internet. This is good shit. There’s more too. Listen to this -- _Rockabye Baby! Wayne heir caught robbing the bad boy cradle. Under-aged drinking in an illicit underground nightclub led to a racy exhibition after the Red Hood indulged the crowd with an impromptu concert.”_ Roy snickered again, “Oh I love this. Dickiebird being accused of taking your _innocence_ is rich!”

“God, would you shut up, Roy!” Jason began thinking of all the ways he could kill Roy Harper, hide the body, and then disappear off the face of the earth for the next decade. A bullet in the head would be too easy. Maybe he could be drawn and quartered. Jason would need to get himself some horses….

“It is not so bad,” Artemis took pity on him and smacked Roy in the face for him. She draped an arm over Jason’s shoulder. “Perhaps the added publicity only further serves the Outlaw image.”

Jason tried to make himself believe it. After all, it wasn’t as if he had to maintain some sort of squeaky clean cover. The Outlaws were known for being edgy, and Jason had never hidden his sexuality. It was just that having what amounted to an unwanted softcore porn photo of himself circulating was flat out _embarrassing_. Getting caught necking with Gotham’s most infamous playboy in an underaged club wasn’t exactly the kind of publicity he was going for.

“Oh one more thing dude, I’ve got more bad news for you,” Roy recovered from Artemis’ blow and returned to drape an arm over Jason’s other shoulder. “Your _mom_ is here. And she wants to talk to you.”

Was it too late to run back to his apartment and hide? Beside him, Roy began to cackle.

Jason groaned inwardly, before turning and kicking Roy in the shin. “I hate you, Roy Harper.”

*************************************************

Talia was waiting for him in the small office of their studio and Jason couldn't help but feel like he was walking into the lion's den. Jason loved and cared for his adoptive mother, and he knew she did in return, but Talia had never been warm and fuzzy, even when she was feeling affectionate. When she was angry, she was damn scary. He braced himself as he opened the door and stepped through.

Talia was seated at the small desk, typing away at a laptop and speaking into her Bluetooth. “I want the rights secured by the end of the day. I don't care if there are already distribution agreements underway.” She paused as whoever was on the other end of the line responded, and then, “Buy them out, or threaten to run them into the ground.”

She tapped her headset and hung up. The whole time, Talia’s voice had remained cool and even. She rarely raised her voice, but when she got cold and unemotional, she was deadly. She turned to acknowledge Jason, and when he saw her piercing stare spear right through him, he knew he was in major trouble. She was pissed.

“I hope you're pleased with yourself, Jason. I was less than thrilled to wake this morning to find a disgustingly lewd image of my son spread across every conceivable form of media.” She tapped a key on her laptop and then turned it toward Jason. The picture of him and Dick was spread in all it's erotic glory across her screen.

He could feel the heat in his face to the tips of his ears. “Sorry, Talia,” Jason stammered, “I don't… I wasn't thinking.”

“Clearly not.” She sighed, closed her eyes and touched her hand to her temple. “We are fortunate the location of your indiscretion remains undisclosed, and there is no evidence other than hearsay that you were drinking. I do not need to be dealing with misdemeanor charges on top of everything else.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’ll be more careful. I just didn't expect the paparazzi to turn up like that.”

Talia sighed again. “I'm afraid you should get used to it. This photo has only served to elevate your status in the public eye.”

“How’s that?”

“The concert tickets available to the public sold out within minutes of the published photo last night. We're expecting thrice what we anticipated at the auction of the VIP tickets next week. Digital sales and streaming plays of _Resurrection_ quadrupled overnight as well. Social media is commending your impromptu underground performance as paying respects to your upbringing. You've cemented your image as Gotham's favorite outlaw son.”

“Oh.” Jason was gaping, trying to process the implications of that as well as Talia's neutral reaction. She had merely sat back in her chair, studying him as much as Jason was studying her.

She let the silence drag on until Jason was squirming, but then there was a slight quirk at the corner of Talia’s mouth, and then he realized she was teasing him. “I should congratulate you on your recklessness, Jason. No amount of marketing or promotion would have garnered this level of attention.”

Jason groaned and flopped into a chair on the opposite of Talia’s desk. “Is _everyone_ having fun at my expense today? No one thinks this is really messed up?”

“Do not mistake my practicality as approval, Jason,” Talia was back to being serious again, but she was letting her guard down a little now. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the exasperation in the line of her brow as she spoke. “I wish you had not chosen the most vapid man of leisure you could possibly find to lure you into temptation. One that is none other than the adopted son of the man whom has taken my biological son away from me.”

“No. I... Talia, I didn’t do this to make you mad.” He leaned forward over the desk to hold her hand. She was genuinely hurt. _This_ was how she actually felt. “I just… I got upset during the interview yesterday. And then I drank too much too fast, and… I don’t know what I was thinking. I was stupid.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re not involved with Richard Grayson?” Talia withdrew her hand from his.

“Outside of yesterday, no,” Jason admitted.

“And do you intend to be?” She narrowed her eyes.

Did he? He hadn't been able to get Dick out of his head for the last week, and Artemis had suggested he might want to take a chance… Jason sort of did last night, and it seemed to prove his earlier reservations right -- that getting involved with Dick Grayson was bad news. Still, Dick wasn't the one dimensional airheaded playboy everyone made him out to be. Sure, he was reckless and pleasure-seeking, but Jason himself had worse qualities, and Dick had been the more level headed one after the photographer had taken the picture. He also had the decency not to push further for sex when he realized Jason was too drunk to recognize the implications of being tailed by paparazzi. Did he intend to pursue a relationship with Dick? He didn't know, but despite the fiasco last night, Jason wanted to see him again.

“Maybe,” Jason finally answered.

“I see.”

Did she really? Because her tone implied otherwise. “You don’t approve,” he surmised.

“You know what falling for the wrong man has cost me.” For once her emotions were plainly warring on her face. She appeared hurt, concerned, and regretful. “I do not want to see you repeat the mistakes I have made. That _boy_ is only going to ruin you. I won't say that I approve, but I can already tell nothing I say will dissuade you. I suppose all I can hope for is that we can use the publicity to our advantage.”

That was _so_ Talia. She would never give her blessing, but she wouldn't abandon him either.

“So you’re not mad?” Jason eventually ventured.

“Of course I'm mad,” she huffed in return, “but I also know why you got angry yesterday. Our PR agent watched the interview and called me as soon as you left the building. Vicki Vale tried to insult us and you tried to defend me. I appreciate the gesture Jason, but there's no need.”

She rose and folded up her laptop. “I've held my own against vultures like her before. I can do it again.” Talia stepped from behind the desk to stand beside him, a gentle hand brushing his arm, “I have meetings to attend. I will see you for dinner Friday.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. Friday was their next regular dinner together. After his escapade the previous night, he was looking forward to a little routine. Speaking of the previous night though, an idea came into his head, “Before you go, Talia. There was a DJ, she called herself Spoiler. We need to look her up. I think she remixed my songs.”

“I'll call the legal team to --.”

“No. Don't threaten her. I think we should bring her in. She's really good. We should help her license her remixes. She's got a lot of talent.”

“Alright. Noted.” Talia kissed him on the cheek and left.

*************************************************

Dick turned up toward the end of the day at the studio, looking more haggard than Jason thought was possible. His smile was still bright however, as the band wrapped up their rehearsal and Jason approached.

“Well if it isn’t our favorite Jezebel,” Roy rushed past him to Dick and threw an arm around his shoulder. “Come to tempt our little Jaybird further into your sordid life of debauchery?”

“Don’t you start,” Dick rolled his eyes in irritation, “I already got torn to pieces by Bruce, and Tim had a field day. I’ve had about enough ribbing for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah well, I take credit for introducing the world to your new brand of playboy-outlaw porn. I hear Talia is gonna license the shit outta that pic,” Roy said, a lewd grin plastered on his face. “Just don’t pull a Yoko Ono and break up the band. I’ll be pissed. Artemis will beat you.”

“I understand we have you to thank for our recent spike in popularity,” Artemis joined the circle at mention of her name. She put her hands on her hips as she gave Dick an assessing look, and then cracking her knuckles as she sized him up. “I thought you’d be taller, though you look like you could be a fairly even match for Jason in a fight.”

“Fight?” Dick looked confused. “Why would we fight? Jay and I just need to talk.”

“Is _talking_ what you did last night?” Roy snickered, “Because if so, let me get my camera ready.”

“Come on guys, stop being jerks,” Jason pushed through his two bandmates and pulled Dick away.

Roy and Artemis made to follow, but Bizarro appeared to block their path. “Me will distract Red Her and Red Arse. Red Him go with sexy man.”

“Red _Arse?_ ” Roy protested. “Where the hell did you get that from?”

“Thanks, Biz,” Jason called as they left the studio.

Dick indicated a dark unobtrusive sedan parked nearby, getting into the driver’s seat and motioning for Jason to follow. Jason hesitated for a moment. Alone in a confined space with Dick? That probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but he got in anyway. It couldn’t get worse than it already was right?

“So, uh, are we going somewhere?” Jason asked as he got into the car.  

“I was hoping we could just talk,” Dick replied cryptically, “in private. Your studio was a bit crowded.” He started the car as soon as Jason was buckled in and pulled away from the curb. “How are you doing, with the whole… picture… thing,” Dick ventured.

“Oh you know, just peachy. Knowing that a shit ton of people are jerkin’ off or pattin’ the pussy to a picture of the two of us… that just tickles me pink.” Jason didn't bother to withhold the acid from his voice. “Just what I always wanted to do -- spread the love, so to speak.”

Dick glanced at him, a look of guilt flashing in his eyes, as he merged into traffic. “I’m sorry, Jay. I should have known they’d find us. The paparazzi are relentless in Gotham.”

“Not your fault.” Jason wasn’t thrilled about it, but he didn’t actually blame Dick for the picture getting out. “It takes two to tango, and it's not like you were the one who took us to an underground nightclub to get trashed.”

“Yeah, well, at least you have the excuse of being drunk. I was pretty much sober, and I just threw myself at you, and….” Dick shook his head, glanced at Jason with something earnest in his expression. “I just can’t stop thinking about you. Could we, I dunno, get something to eat? Watch a movie or something?”

“Dinner and a movie? That sounds like the infamous playboy, Richard Grayson, is asking me out on something like a date.” Jason didn't mean for it to come out as cynical as it sounded, but he was having trouble believing it. The most eligible bachelor in Gotham, perhaps the sexiest man on the planet -- known for his seductive charm, philandering ways and the number of hearts he’d broken -- _that_ Dick Grayson was asking _him_ out on something like a date?

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Dick flashed him a quick smile, but it looked a little apprehensive for some reason. “I was thinking we could do something low key though. Like, I dunno, we can get takeout and go back to my place or something? Do something normal.”

“You're serious?” Jason was a bit floored. It had to be too good to be true, right? There had to be more to it. It was clear that Dick was attracted to him, Jason had no doubt about that after last night, but maybe it was as simple as he just wanted to finish what they had started the night before.  

Jason found he wasn't as opposed to the idea as he had been earlier. The image of Dick fully aroused in his lap was burned into his mind. Just the memory of it had Jason's body flushing with heat. Though Jason didn't like one night stands in general, that didn't mean he didn't have his own libido to satisfy, and there were worse ways than to find release with someone as beautiful as Dick. Jason just wanted to know the score before going in.

After a few tense beats in which Dick didn't immediately reply, Jason added, “If you're asking me back to your place for a quick fuck, you can just say so.”

“What? No! I mean, if that's… only if… that's not what I meant.” Dick shook his head. He glanced away from the road just long enough for Jason to see a surprisingly hurt expression. “Is that honestly what you think of me? That I'm just out for sex?”

Jason just stared, because… yes. That was exactly what he thought, and now he realized with a growing feeling of guilt that he was wrong.

“Look,” Dick gripped the wheel a little harder and kept his eyes steadfastly on the road, “I know I don't have the greatest reputation, but for the record, this was the first time they've caught me doing something that was actually inappropriate. All the pictures of me, all the people I've supposedly slept with, it was all twisted by the media and taken out of context. They're just my friends. Most of them. I like to socialize, I like to be around people, and I like to have fun. But the tabloids want scandal, and I know what they say -- that I'm just a party boy. A charmer. A sleazebag. A slut. It's just…” Dick actually looked pained. “It's not true. That's _not_ who I am.”

Shit. How had Jason really gotten it so wrong? He’d been starting to see that Dick was more than what the media let on, but it was hard to get around the image of the sexy playboy model who went through an endless line of arm candy at every turn. Maybe Jason was too quick to jump to conclusions. Maybe he hadn't been giving Dick enough credit. Maybe he should have believed him when Roy insisted Dick was a good person.

Jason was silent as his inner monologue ran through his mind, and Dick took that as his answer.

“I guess that's a no then….” Dick looked absolutely crestfallen. “I'm sorry for troubling you, I'll drop you off at your apartment.”

“No,” Jason blurted out, before he realized the negative could have been misinterpreted. “I mean no, _I'm_ sorry. I’ve been an ass. I've been judging you since we met, and I don't have any right to do that. I'm just… Roy was right. I'm fucking clueless. I'm really terrible at this, but I _am_ interested... and not in just a quick fuck. That’s not what I want. Not really…. Shit. Can we just start over?”

The change in Dick was immediate. His shoulders relaxed, his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel let up, and he shifted a hand over to lightly grasp Jason's own. “Okay, yeah,” he beamed. “We can start over. That’s a great idea. Jason Todd, I think you're absolutely amazing, and sexy, and talented. I love your music and your passion, and I'd like to get to know you better. Would you have dinner with me tonight?”

It was corny as hell, but Jason found it oddly endearing. “Yes, I'd love to,” he smiled back.


	5. Chapter 5

They ended up getting an array of takeout delivered to Dick's penthouse apartment atop Wayne Tower. The place was surprisingly well-lived in and homey, with pictures adorning a large portion of the walls. Jason recognized Bruce Wayne in some of them from the photos he had seen in the news and gossip rags. There was a lot of an older grandfatherly looking man, as well as a young teenager he didn't recognize. There were a lot of more recent pictures of Damian too.

“Did you know Damian at all, after you went to live with Talia?” Dick sidled up next to him as Jason looked at the photos.

“No. We met a couple times, but I never actually lived with Talia much,” Jason explained. “I was studying abroad most of the time.”

“Oh. That seems…,” Dick searched for a word, and finally settled on “lonely.” Jason could tell that wasn't what he wanted to say, but he let Dick continue. “You didn't miss having family around?”

“Not really,” Jason replied. “Didn't have much family to begin with.” He scanned the rest of Dick's wall of photos. It was a different picture entirely than what the media tried to portray. The photos contained people who laughed with him, who gave him hugs, and did fun things with him like build sand castles on the beach or drop cannonballs into a pool. There were some faces he recognized -- he saw Roy and Kori in some of the older photos -- but others looked familiar because he had seen clippings of them in the tabloids. There were plenty of attractive men and women, but the way they were smiling so joyfully and warm -- it was a far cry from the lewd and sordid life of sex and drugs the media liked to push constantly.  

Dick was telling the truth. The photos in the gossip rags were taken out of context. Dick didn't surround himself with nameless floozies, he surrounded himself with friends and family who loved him. Dick was not at all what Jason had first expected him to be.

There was a redheaded man that appeared frequently in the photos. He seemed vaguely familiar to Jason, but he couldn't quite place him. “Who's this?”

“That's Wally,” Dick pointed to another photo of the two of them in front of a race car. “He’s a Formula 1 driver.”

“I think I remember a story about you crashing your dad's Bentley while you were high as a kite with your boyfriend,” Jason remarked. “That the guy you crashed it with?”

“That was total BS. We weren't high. Wally and I were dating at the time, but I was trying a stunt, and Wally’s a professional. He knew what he was doing. Besides, we were young. I was only eighteen.”

Jason could relate to that. He’d done his fair share of stupid things, though he wasn't much past being a teenager. In light of everything though, Dick seemed pretty wholesome compared with Jason's history of sleeping with questionable men and older women, and getting in bar fights to find dates. It looked like between the two of them, Jason was still the bad boy of the pair.

They sat down to eat as Dick chattered on about growing up in the circus, regaling Jason with stories of flying on the trapeze, how he still maintained that as part of his regular workout, and how that translated into his occasional jaunts into skydiving. Jason also learned that Dick did indeed have an arrest record for illegally base jumping off of a Lexcorp Tower.

In return Jason shared stories of his travels and how he had formed the band. How he had run into Kori at a nudist colony while island hopping in the Pacific during a spring break one summer. How he had met Roy, who had been an aid worker in Africa, after he nearly got thrown in jail after being falsely accused of fomenting rebellion while Jason was studying tribal counter rhythms. How he had met Artemis that same year in Egypt while trying to acclimatize to the semitones of the Near-Eastern musical scales. And how they had picked up Bizarro nearly half frozen as he busked on a set of makeshift steel drums outside of St. Petersburg, Russia.

“He’s still learning English,” Jason explained. “But he’s picking it up quick. Artemis and I are teaching him.”

“That’s nice of you,” Dick said as he leaned back on the couch. They had moved from the small dining table they had eaten at and into Dick's living room, seated together side-by-side as they sipped on a couple of beers. Maybe drinking wasn’t the best idea after last night, but Dick had offered, and Jason was feeling oddly nervous so he’d accepted.

“So everybody just started following you around then,” Dick commented. “It's amazing you guys were able to travel the world together for so many years.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t easy,” Jason reminisced. “Half the time we’d jam and write our songs, and we’d record on the road, and we uploaded the videos wherever we could find an internet connection. The rest of the time we ended up illegally crossing borders and running from immigration. None of us really had the right paperwork. I wasn't even eighteen when we started, and it would have taken too long to wait for visas and get passports sorted out. At one point, Interpol thought we were a bunch of terrorists. Talia wanted to kill me by the time she finally sorted out our legal statuses to bring us back to Gotham.”

“Now it makes sense why you call yourselves the Outlaws,” Dick laughed, and Jason couldn’t help but appreciate Dick’s beguiling smile. It lit his face up and seemed to make his eyes impossibly brighter.

That light in his eyes stayed intense even as Dick dropped his gaze a little, relaxing and leaning forward into something more sultry. Lusty. Dick shifted closer to him, draping an arm over the back of the couch they were on. Jason took another swig of his beer, finishing the last of it and tilting his head back as he swallowed. When he brought his head back down to level, Dick had shifted even closer. His face was only inches away as he took the bottle out of Jason’s hand and set it down somewhere on the floor.

Dick was biting at his bottom lip again, a flash of perfect white teeth pinching at the plump pucker of red-pink flesh. It looked dirty and delicious and Jason found he was wetting his lips in return. Dick tilted his head slightly to the side. Jason could imagine it was a pose he used in his modeling, his body and face expressing all too clearly an unspoken question -- baring his need in a warm, open invitation --  _kiss me_.

Jason suddenly couldn’t fathom why he had been resistant to the idea in the first place. Dick was there -- interested, asking, wanting -- since the first day they’d met. Why in the world had Jason ever said no? Why had he even thought he _could_ say no? Oh right, because Jason had thought he was a walking STD, but now he knew Dick was something _more_ and something _better_. Once he stopped to really look, he didn’t see any reason not to proceed.

Jason closed the distance between them, bringing both hands to drag Dick’s face forward to crush the teasing curl out of his flushed lips. He pulled Dick into his lap, a replay of the night before, but now Jason wasn’t holding anything back. He tasted Dick’s mouth, ran his tongue along his jaw to nip at his ear, and sucked a trail of bruising love bites down to his collarbone as Dick gasped and whined. He tugged and tugged at his shirt until Dick shrugged out of it in one smooth motion, and then Jason attacked his chest with his mouth, tasting his warm and earthy skin, rolling the bud of a nipple with his tongue as Dick dug his fingernails into Jason’s shoulders.

“I’ve wanted this… dreamed of you… for so long,” Dick breathed and panted into Jason’s ear. Had he? Because at that moment Jason felt like he was the one who had been wanting. Like he was the one who had wanted Dick since the dawn of time. Like he’d been waiting his entire life for this. Like hearing Dick moan was the pinnacle of his life’s work. Jason moved his hands down his back, brought them forward to squeeze Dick’s trim waist, taking one hand to undo his fly and then dipping a thumb past his waistband… following a soft line of dark hair down and down and down... until he was nudging the base of Dick’s hardening member, encircling him with thumb and forefinger, feeling him twitch and spasm in the confines of his pants.

Jason pushed gently at his chest, moving Dick back slightly so he could watch as he worked Dick’s cock and balls out of his pants, stroking him in a firm grip until he was jutting out hard, with his pants and boxers pushed down over his hips and buttocks, stretched tight and nearly ripping over the tops of his thighs. And _oh,_ it was a sight to behold. Jason marveled at the perfection that was Dick Grayson, poised in all his erotic glory before him. Now _that_ was a picture Jason wanted seared into his brain.

Dick let out a desperate sound, rolled his hips against the press of Jason’s hand and brought their mouths together again. Jason lost himself in the taste and feel of Dick’s tongue, hot and probing in his mouth, letting himself gasp and moan in return as Dick tore open the buttons of his shirt and worked upon his fly, pushing and pulling at his clothes until Jason was just as exposed and wanting.  

Dick wriggled out of the rest of his clothing and reseated himself in Jason’s lap. He felt the brush of soft skin of Dick’s scrotum against his thigh as Dick pulled his hand to wrap around his cock again, and then moved to grip Jason’s hard-on in his own. They started stroking each other, writhing against each other, as Dick shoved his tongue down Jason’s throat and Jason opened up to take him, only breaking it off so he could breathe. Dick was brushing his thumb over the sensitive tip of his glans, smearing the drops of precum over the head and underside of his cock. Jason was panting hard.

Jason stroked Dick faster, gripped him firmer, and Dick leaned so that Jason could tongue at his nipple again. Dick was making little whimpering noises each time Jason stroked the bud with his tongue, shifting so that he was grinding his taint against Jason’s thigh as they continued to beat each other off. They both weren’t going to last long if they kept going like this.

Dick abruptly stopped, “Wait! Not yet,” he said as he shifted to stand, tugged Jason along with a hand on the back of his head to bring their lips together once more. Dick backed up, leading Jason to follow with their mouths still locked in a kiss. Leading them into another room… a bedroom.

Dick fell backwards onto the bed, pulling Jason down on top of him and in between his legs. He was rolling his hips again, grinding their groins together as he threw both his arms over Jason’s neck, locking them flush as Dick stared into his eyes.

“Is this okay?” Dick opened his legs wider, bringing them up around to hook around Jason’s thighs. He was asking to be fucked.

Jason nodded, a little relieved. He’d fucked and been fucked before, but opening himself up on the receiving end was harder, and it wasn’t something he would do for just anybody. He wasn’t sure if Dick was that somebody yet, but at the moment it wasn’t an issue. Dick wanted Jason to top, and that was something Jason was certainly happy to do. Dick shifted to pull a condom and lube from his bedside drawer and put them into Jason’s hands.

He worked Dick open with slick fingers as Dick continued to plunder his mouth. Dick was clearly a fan of kissing, and Jason found he was gaining a new appreciation for it. Every swirl and probe in the wet heat of his mouth, and every nip and tease of teeth was making him tingle, sending jolts of something arousing and fluttery all along his stomach and down to his groin, heightened by the sensation of Dick’s lubed hand stroking his cock in a slow, steady rhythm. Dick was setting the pace even before Jason had penetrated him. Dick clearly didn’t want a quick fuck, and as he shifted again, nudging Jason into position squarely on top of him, it was also clear Dick wanted him to do it face-to-face.

It felt somehow overwhelmingly intimate. Jason had never liked one night stands because it was hard for him to make himself so vulnerable for someone he’d never see again, but this… this was something else. It was as if Dick was asking him to _make love_ , and that… that was almost terrifying….

… but Dick stroked Jason’s flank soothingly, whispered seductively into his ear, “Take me. Please take me,” and Jason was lost to his pleading. He leaned forward, guiding himself into Dick’s entrance to push in slowly. Dick sighed into his mouth and curled himself to give Jason a better angle. Jason allowed himself to sink, allowed himself to push into wet heat and pressure, until Dick was drawing him forward, pulling him in forever and ever with every inch of tightness until Jason was buried deep inside him.

Dick purred and arched as Jason began to move, braced on his elbows, arms reaching under Dick’s back to curl his hands over his shoulders as they rocked together. It felt like a dance between them, like it had the night at the club -- a push and pull of their bodies, synchronized and beating together -- except this time it was slow, like a ballad. This thing between them like the slow progression of repeating chords, the rise and fall of scales, reaching toward a climax together, their moans and whines and mewls filling each other’s ears like a song.

“Jason, oh god. Right there. Jason, Jay.” A croon from Dick’s throat as Jason’s thrusts got a little sharper, a little quicker so there was more bounce and slap. Dick threw his head back into the pillows as each movement jarred his whole body from head to toe, and then Jason could feel him clenching. His body squeezed around Jason, the tight heat of him pulsing until he was spurting a stream of stickiness between their bodies. And then Jason was releasing himself with a shudder, his own voice singing the song of climax until Dick swallowed his cry with another kiss.

Jason collapsed and closed his eyes, and felt Dick gather his arms around him, cuddling close. It felt odd, only because it felt good. It felt like Dick was someone he could fall in love with, if he wasn't already, and Jason felt an irrational pang of fear suddenly. This was what he had been afraid of, because this feeling of tenderness and intimacy was rare… and it already hurt to think about what would happen when Dick didn't want it anymore.

Jason pulled away and sat up at the edge of the bed and tucked his arms around himself. He felt too exposed, still naked and bare. He’d crossed over the edge of the cliff, and now he was falling. Falling in love. The force of Dick’s gravity was pulling him down, and now he was drowning.

“What's wrong?” Dick sat up behind him and grazed a hand along his back.

“Nothing. I’m fine… maybe I should go.” Jason felt confused, his emotions a conflict of feeling stupid and childish and dumb for being scared, and feeling like all he wanted was for Dick to keep touching him and holding him forever.

“No. Don’t go,” Dick pulled at him. “Stay with me. I want you to stay.” Simple as that.

Jason wanted to. He did. He had to keep telling himself that, and Artemis had said he should take a chance, didn't she?

“Hey, come on, it’s okay. Just stay with me. _Please_.” And Jason let Dick pull him down this time, scooting him to lay between Dick’s legs, creating a space for Jason to settle in as Dick pulled him back into a kiss.

“Okay,” Jason acquiesced. He still felt vulnerable. He still felt stupidly scared. But that was okay, because this was falling in love, and that meant he was taking a chance.


	6. Chapter 6

It was several weeks later. The eve of the Concert Gala arrived and Jason checked himself over in the mirror one last time. He was wearing those goddamn _holey_ leather mesh pants, because Dick said he liked them, and if Dick liked them… well, who was he to say ‘no’ when Dick said he liked something he was wearing? He drew the line at the _overly distressed_ shirt though. He exchanged the ragged hole-ridden shirt for a fitted, fully intact gray one. His favorite piece was the custom-fitted red leather jacket Kori had made for him. It even had a hood. He was the Red Hood after all.

“I think you look hot.” Dick stepped into view in the mirror, wrapping his arms around his waist as he kissed Jason’s cheek.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Jason pecked him back, but that was certainly an understatement. While Jason was dressed with their performance in mind, Dick was dressed to the nines -- ready to walk down the red carpet for the pre-concert VIP dinner in a designer suit that seemed to fit and accentuate every line of his body. If anyone was hot, it was Dick.

Jason tried to adjust his godawful pants one more time, but no amount of shifting could cover the fact that it was full of holes. Jason sighed.

“It's fine, Jay. Seriously, everyone’s going to love the look,” Dick said as he glanced at his watch. “Come on, the limo’s already here. Let’s go.”

Jason let Dick lead him out of the apartment down to where the limousine was waiting. An older gentleman got out to open the door and Dick immediately threw his arms around him in a hug. Okay, Dick was touchy feely, but he wasn’t normally _that_ handsy with strangers. The man looked vaguely familiar, and it took a moment before Jason had recalled seeing the man in Dick’s various pictures.

“Jay, this is Alfred. He pretends to be the help, but he’s family,” Dick explained.

“I am pleased to finally meet you, Master Jason,” Alfred held a hand out. 

Jason shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.” 

“We would love to have you over at the Manor sometime.”

Jason hesitated, but upon Dick’s insistent nodding, Jason replied, “I’d be honored.”

That seemed to be good enough for Alfred. They climbed into the car, and Jason was slightly surprised to see someone else was sitting in the car, waiting for them. Damian.

“Todd,” the younger boy acknowledged him with the briefest of nods.

“Little D!” Dick threw himself at him.

“--Tt--,” the boy looked at Jason sternly after the younger boy managed to fend off Dick’s affection attack. “Thankfully, I have been excused from attending your proletarian bacchanal. I came only for the ride over to say that my mother has invested far too much in you. She has a lot riding on your success. Do not screw this up.”

“Dami!” Dick tried to admonish, but Damian continued.

“And, that I disapprove of Richard spending so much time with you. I have been unsuccessful at dissuading him from pursuing this scandalous relationship, so if you must continue, I insist that you spend more of your time at the Manor.”

“Whatever,” Jason dismissed. “Your, uh, Alfred said as much.” Damian had always been insufferable the few times they had met before, but the fact that he had actually extended an invitation, albeit masked in insults, had caught Jason off guard. Dick must have been warming him up the last several years Jason hadn’t seen him.

The rest of the drive was filled with Dick’s chatter as they made their way to Gotham Civic Theater where the concert was going to be held. It was the largest concert venue the city had, and the VIP hors d'oeuvres dinner was to be held at the adjacent expo hall. Jason fidgeted nervously in the car ride over. It wasn't the concert that had him jittery though, it was the fact that it was the first time he and Dick would appear publicly together since the photo of the two of them was leaked to the media.

“Hey, it's gonna be fine. I’ll be the buffer. It's pretty much my job to stand in front of cameras, and I grew up being reamed by the press.” Dick held his hand as they pulled up to the red carpet. “You ready?”

Jason took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

The camera flashes were blinding, but Dick plastered on a congenial smile as he waved and smiled for photos. He practically sparkled under the scrutiny of paparazzi, journalists, and gossip mongers as he deftly maneuvered to pose and speak to those he deemed worthwhile. It was no wonder they loved to make up dirt, because Richard Grayson was gleamingly perfect. There wasn’t a speck of dirt or scandal other than the fact that he was holding Jason’s hand. Fortunately, all Jason had to do was not punch anyone in the face and let Dick guide him through the throng of people. The reporters were less aggressive with him once Jason started scowling. There were certain advantages to having a bad boy rep. He managed a few smiles and poses for the major media outlets while Dick did all the talking.

Finally, they made it through the frenzy of reporters and into the expo hall. The rest of the Outlaws were already there.

“Do you see that? Holy shit!” Roy clasped onto Jason’s shoulder. The redhead was swooning at two raven-haired women at the end of the hall. “Princess Diana's here with her niece, Donna of Troy!”

“I don't see what all the fuss is about,” Artemis paced to stand beside them stoically. “Of course they are here. Diana was one of the highest ticket bidders at the VIP auction after all.”

“I'm gonna see if Donna wants my autograph,” Roy scurried off.

Beside them, Bizarro simply shrugged. “Me am get food to eat,” he grunted.

“You are the smartest of us, my friend,” Artemis agreed and they wandered off.

They milled about, Jason feeling a little uncomfortable -- he hated these sorts of fancy shindigs -- grabbing a few glasses of champagne from the roving servers, as Dick flitted around to say hello to various people. After about the tenth “old friend” Jason started to wonder if there was _anyone_ he didn’t give a hug to? At least the hugs were quick and platonic, as far as Jason could tell, but it was even clearer now how the tabloids could twist Dick’s overeager friendliness into something more salacious.

Jason stuck to an inconspicuous archway as far from the main crowd as possible (he was _not_ hiding!), when a dark haired teenager sidled up to him.  

“You’re surprisingly good at keeping out of the limelight at this thing, given you and the Outlaws are the headliners of the show.”

Jason looked down at the teen. He was smiling, almost a little shyly, his blue eyes were open and friendly, but that didn’t stop Jason from replying, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Oh. I’m Tim, Dick’s brother,” he held out a hand but dropped it after Jason didn’t shake it. “I’m like your biggest fan. Maybe your second biggest fan after Dick. I thought it was genius how you originally released your album over social media in a video serial. That is some crazy guerilla marketing.”

“It wasn’t marketing,” Jason grumbled. “We were just running from the cops and it was the only way we could get our music out.”

“Oh. But still, I think that’s why people like you so much. It was so _real_ ,” the teen effused.

“That’s because it _was_ real, you doofus.” He gave Tim a friendly punch in the shoulder to soften the insult. The kid was a little naive, but Jason found his enthusiasm entertaining.  

Dick eventually rounded back toward them after doing a turn of the room. “I see you’ve met my little brother, Tim. He’s your biggest fan!”

“I heard,” Jason winked at Tim.

“Hey, maybe you could come by the Manor sometime,” Tim suggested. “We could talk about bringing you back to the libraries once the literacy program is running and you could talk to the kids? Dick does a lot of the PR for the Wayne Foundation, but I’m involved in a lot of the planning.”

“Sure,” Jason shrugged. That was the third invite tonight to go to the Manor. He’d have to find some excuse about being too busy to go. Jason wasn’t sure he wanted to get quite that cozy with the rest of the Waynes yet. There was still bad blood between them and Talia. It was no sooner than that thought had crossed his mind though, than did Dick grab his elbow and gesture toward a man who was weaving through the crowd, quickly approaching. He was well built and tall, immaculately dressed with slick dark hair. Jason recognized him immediately from pictures he'd seen.

Bruce Wayne.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” His grip was surprisingly firm, the piercing blue of his eyes harder and more calculating than Jason was expecting from the more senior of the two playboy billionaires in his presence. Knowing what he knew now of Dick though, perhaps that shouldn’t have been a surprise to Jason. Neither of them were what the media painted them to be, and after keeping the gripping handshake a few beats longer, boring his gaze into Jason in some kind of silent assessment, Bruce finally let go.

“We should talk,” he said. Not friendly, but not disapproving either. “Dick has told me some stories about your travels. Believe it or not, I did something similar when I was your age. I traveled the world over before I finally found myself.”

“Oh,” Jason managed to say. Bruce Wayne had sought to find himself as a young man? That was definitely a story that hadn't made the press.

“I’ll have Alfred find a time for you and Dick to come to the Manor,” Bruce said, even before Jason could respond.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Jason cringed. Yikes. What was it with Dick’s family inviting him over to the Manor?

Jason didn’t have time to mull over it, because Roy was back with Bizarro and Artemis. “Hey, grab your food and your dude. Talia wants us in the green room.”

Jason was thankfully relieved, making his excuses to find his way backstage. They were already getting ready for the opening act, and there was a spunky blonde girl checking equipment as they passed.

“Hey, isn’t that --?” Dick turned his head to look back at the girl.

“Yeah, that’s Stephanie. Remember DJ Spoiler?” Jason grinned as recognition lighted Dick’s face. Neither of them would ever forget how things went down that night. “I had Talia look her up,” Jason continued. “Turns out she’s got a killer voice and an underground following of her own. She’s our new opening act.”

“Oh, that’s awesome!” Dick seemed a little too overjoyed at the prospect of making a new friend, and then, “I’ll be watching from the VIP booth,” as they kissed and parted.

Everything after that was a flurry of activity. Talia had been waiting for them, and there were final hair, makeup and wardrobe checks, equipment checks (Jason and Artemis liked to tune and set up their own instruments), and Talia ran through a bevy of last minute _this and thats_. They had a few minutes of downtime as Spoiler finished up her act, then it was ready for them to go onstage.

Jason was pumped as they entered the stage. The Outlaws had played everywhere from sleazy Eastern European nightclubs to large soccer stadiums. It didn’t matter what stage or crowd, they always went all out and aimed to please their audience and fans, and the Gotham Civic crowd was no exception. If anything, it meant more to Jason. This was his hometown. This was his home crowd and they were in their element.

They marched onto the stage, and Jason nodded out a few beats to Artemis and they started the vamp.

“Let’s hear it for Gotham City!” Jason yelled and the crowd cheered and screamed, the roaring din of it filled his ears and hit him like a force of wind. But it wasn’t good enough. He needed more from them. They needed to give if they were going to get.

“That’s fucking shit. We. Are. Gotham! You can do fucking better,” Jason pushed the crowd, rousing them into a fervor. “Louder this time. Let’s hear it for FUCKING GOTHAM CITY!”

This time the roar of the crowd was thunderous. Like a tidal wave. Like a force of blowback from the detonation of a bomb.

“Gotham City!” Jason shouted.

“Gotham City!” The crowd shouted back.

“Gotham! Gotham! Gotham!” Jason whipped them up even more, until he could feel the energy like electricity. They were ready. He struck the first chord of ‘Resurrection.’

There was the crash of drums, the electronic beats, the harmonies and the deep bass plowing through the amplified air as Jason sang. The bursts of flashing lights, the mist and smoke from the fog machines. Along the hall there were explosions of confetti, all while the crowd thrummed and moved and undulated, filling the entire hall like a single living, breathing, beast that was Gotham in all its carnal beauty.

By the end of their last song, Jason’s skin was hot and slick with sweat. The stage lights got warm after a while, and though they didn’t employ any dancers or do any sort of choreography, Jason moved a lot while on stage and made full use of the performance space. Playing through a full set was a very physical activity, and by the end of it, his pulse would be running fast from the performance high. He’d discarded his jacket halfway through, and his hair was damp as it whipped around his face. Jason dropped his guitar to the side and lifted his shirt to wipe at his face. The action inadvertently flashed a view of his bare stomach as he did so. Several members of the audience began to yell cat calls.

Jason laughed as he responded to the audience, “Right. You guys saw this photo of me already. How many of you have it on your phone?” Not surprisingly, several screens in the crowd flared up with a tiny version of his and Dick’s infamous picture. Jason laughed again. “How many of you whip that out before you go to bed night?”

The crowd laughed and cheered, and Jason simply replied, “Pervs!” The picture was never going away as far as Jason could tell, so he figured he might as well have fun with it. The crowd seemed to appreciate that and broke out into more rolling laughter.

“I’ve got a special encore, for someone in particular. You guys might remember the better half of a certain half naked photo, I’m sure.”

More whoops and calls as Jason glanced over to the VIP booth. He couldn’t see into it, the audience lights were out and it was too dark to make anyone out, but he knew Dick was there. He knew he was watching and listening as Jason began fingerpicking a slow rolling harmony. It was a ballad, one that he had specially written over the last couple weeks for solo guitar and voice. Artemis, Roy and Bizarro put their instruments down and bowed off the stage as Jason turned back to the crowd. 

“This one’s called ‘My Own Fire.’ For you, Dickie.” Jason took a breath, closed his eyes and began to sing.

 _I took the road that diverged in the yellow wood,_  
_The burnt out path that was least understood._  
_I cross the burning bridge that becomes my pyre,  
Leave me to be consumed by my own fire._

 _I've been wandering, but I've drifted too far,_  
_Don't let me burn away, like a falling star._  
_But the pull of you is like the sun,  
A gravity that I can't outrun._

 _Even stray dogs form packs to roam._  
_Even spring robins return home._  
_Even Halley’s Comet orbits the sun.  
Even a bullet needs a gun._

There was a burst of applause from the crowd, and Jason opened his eyes to see Dick had climbed up onto the stage. He stood at the edge, and he looked radiant even amidst the dim glow of blue lights that spotted the stage. There was something in his expression… perhaps there was more depth in his smile than usual, perhaps his eyes looked just slightly wet with emotion, or perhaps Jason was just seeing things. Dick stayed at the edge of the stage, not approaching, he was waiting for Jason continue.

Jason moved into the refrain --

 _Come away with me,_  
_You're the burning sun of my desire._  
_Come away with me,  
Before I come crashing down in my own fire._

 _I've been wandering, but I've drifted too far,_  
_Don't let me burn away, like a falling star,_  
_Even Halley's Comet orbits the sun.  
The pull of you makes me come undone._

 _Come away with me, don't let me run._  
_Like Halley's Comet orbits the sun._  
_Like a falling star, like a drifting pyre,  
Don't let me burn away in my own fire._

Jason strummed the last notes of the chord, and the crowd was thundering in applause. He could hear squealing and stomping and then people started calling out:

“Kiss him! Kiss him!”

People were chanting, the sentiment infectious and spreading until the entire hall was cheering them on in synchrony. “Kiss him! Kiss him!”

Dick laughed as he finally closed the distance between them, crossing the stage and walking into Jason’s spotlight. Then, amongst the roaring applause, screaming cheers, whoops and howls from the crowd, in front of thousands of people as they watched and chanted and cajoled… they kissed.

It was sweet, and tender, and warm, and like coming home. Switching his mic off, leaning in so that only Dick could hear him amongst the din, Jason spoke breathily into his ear, “Dickie, come on tour with me. You don’t have to come for the whole thing, but come. I want you with me.”

They parted so that Jason could see Dick’s face. He was glowing with that sunlit smile again. “Yes. I’d love to.”

 

 

 

 

*************************************************

BONUS: I actually wrote out a melody and accompaniment for My Own Fire, because I can't think about music without actually doing it. This was just what was in my head, and may not be to everyone's tastes, so make of it what you will. Forgive my amateur audio editing skills, but hopefully you get the idea. Unfortunately, Soundcloud has quirks in mobile browsers, you have to hit pause and then play again for it to work.

  
  
Download link (watch out for popups!): [Mediafire Link to Download mp3](http://www.mediafire.com/?sy2uee0yxtrjr)

Tabs (not checked for playability). Also on Mediafire: [PDF File](http://www.mediafire.com/file/rtzsaqc3wlxa39z/My_Own_Fire_Tabs.pdf/file)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it! NitroJen, hope you enjoyed this little story :)
> 
>   * For the record (literally), I am a natural female soprano and a sexy singing dudevoice was not easily available to me, so what you’re hearing on the recording is my own voice put through a voice modulator. Turns out there's a lot more to voice changing than simple octave shifts! The recording was just for fun, with the caveat that I am not actually a singer, and my audio editing skills are crap, and I don't have professional equipment, and I wasn't able to fix all the artifacts and inconsistencies that the modulator produced... so just don't listen too closely :)
>   * I also did a cover of Melanie's "Look What They've Done to My Song" on Soundcloud under the same account if you're interested, using the same voice changer. The quirks in that one are a little more intentional. If you have familiarity with the original song it might make more sense.
>   * As I was writing this, I kept thinking about how in this AU, where Jason never died and never met Bruce, and never lived in the shadow of Dick, so he probably wouldn't have as much damage and trauma. It lends him to being in a reality where he may still feel vulnerable given his background, but maybe also a little more emotionally mature. Enough that he can see past his insecurity and pursue a relationship. 
> 



End file.
